


Wanderlust

by natimesia



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26769481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natimesia/pseuds/natimesia
Summary: Even Bech Næsheim escaped to find himself.Instead, he found one Isak Valtersen.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	1. 17:21

**Author's Note:**

> :))))

**17:21**

“Stand up.”

“But the bus is moving.”

“But the floor is lava. You’ll burn.”

“But I’ll burn either way.”

A look, a smile, and a, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Then, silence.

“Wait - that’s it?”

“That’s what?”

“No more questions? You know, do you like Diet Coke? Have you read Harry Potter? Are you a ninja?”

A pause.

“What was the driver’s answer when you asked him the difference between a pumpkin and a squash?”

A tease: “Stalker.”

A defense: “There’s a difference between stalking and observing.”

A musing: “You’re eloquent.”

An explanation: “I write. I must be. And I observe a lot. That’s what I do.”

Another explanation: “Well, he looked at me weird.”

A third explanation: “Pumpkin means large melon. Squash has many varieties. A pumpkin is just another type of squash.”

“Um. Wow. Okay.”

A few seconds of silence.

“So what’s up with the jar? Do you bring that everywhere?”

A nod, “Yep.”

“It looks heavy.”

“It is heavy. It’s glass.” A _tap tap._

“Why?”

“Oh, you know, for sheer fun.”

“What’s written on the papers then?”

“Well, you have to pick to see.”

An observation: “You have a very bad handwriting.”

“And what made you think that I wrote these?”

“I heard loud ripping and scribbling approximately two seats behind me a while back.”

“Fine, I did. You’re really good at observing people.”

“I tend to observe a lot. That’s what I do.”

“And you observe me?”

“Who else?”

No one else is inside the bus.

A quip: “I thought you observed me because I am special.”

A sarcastic, “Oh, trust me, you are.”

An indignant, “ _Hey!_ What’s that supposed to mean?”

A diversion: “ _Two truths and a lie_.”

“Cool. I’ll start first: I am an only child, I am half-American and half-Norwegian. I don’t like cats.”

A prompt response: “Cats.”

A gape: “So fast! How did you do that?”

“You’re very subtle.”

“Really? I guess I have to work on that more, then. Your turn.”

“Um. I do martial arts. I’ve never been out of the country. I love chocolates.”

A weird look, and then, “That’s ridiculous. Of course the chocolates. No one hates chocolate. That’s insane.”

“I’ll try to take that as a compliment because I do hate chocolates.”

“What? That’s crazy, man!”

“It makes my throat sore easily.”

“Well, I guess if you put it that way. . .” A pause. “So you do martial arts? And wait - you’ve never been out of the country? Like, seriously? But you look well-travelled.”

“I travel, but only within the country.”

“We should go to the Philippines! Wait - how old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“We should go to the Philippines! Let’s go there!”

A _bounce, bounce, bounce_ on the seat.

“Yeah. Let’s.”

“Wait. Really? You’ll come with me?”

A shrug. “Sounds fun.”

“But you just met me.”

“Who cares?”

“Uh, your parents? Friends? Relatives?”

“I’m legal. I could go anywhere and with anyone I like.”

“That’s a bit reckless, don’t you think?”

A pause, and then - “You’re giving yourself out easier than I expect you to.”

“What?”

“You’re a kidnapper.”

A blink. “Wait - _what_? How could you say that?” 

“Reverse psychology.”

“Well, then, if you think I’m a kidnapper, why are you still talking to me?”

“I’m not afraid of you. I do Taekwondo.”

A pause, and an apprehensive, “You’re kidding, right? You don’t think I’m actually a kidnapper?”

“Of course I am. You look like a puppy.”

Another blink. “Excuse me?”

A smirk. “You _totally_ do.”

“I demand you take that back.”

A shake of the head in response.

“But seriously, take aside the reverse psychology shit, you would really go to the Philippines with me?”

“Of course not.”

“Ouch. Fine. Next question. _Why won’t you go to the Philippines with me?_ ”

“It does not say that.”

“No, it doesn’t, but you should answer, anyway. Probing minds demand to know.”

An unamused stare.

“No? Fine, I’ll do a real one. _Say an experience that changed your life_.”

A few deliberating pause, and then - “I discovered pen, paper and words get along really well when I was ten.”

“And that changed your life?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Laconic. My turn, then. Um, okay, an experience that changed my life . . . well, let’s see, this one time, I got in a bus-”

“Shut up.”

“Hey! Hear me out. How do you know I’m not being serious? How do you know you aren’t going to change my life?”

“Because I _haven’t_.”

“But you _could_. This is a strange world. Things happen. And it happens for a reason. People don’t meet people by accident. They are meant to cross paths for a purpose. Take us for an example. You don’t know, maybe I’m meeting you because you’ll change my life.”

“How philosophical of you.”

A shrug. “You never know. Next question-”

“- _What are your plans for the rest of the day?-_ ” 

“It was my turn.”

“I’ll give you two turns later. Answer the question.”

“Sit. Think. Write. Breathe once in a while.”

“Cool. Hey, where are you headed?”

A look out the window. “Nowhere.”

A smile. “Nice. May I join?”

“What are _your_ plans for the rest of the day?”

A smart-ass grin, and a, “Going nowhere with you.”

“Okay. Next question, I suppose. _Describe a time you fell in love_.” A scrunching of nose. “Really? This belongs to your jar of ‘ _101_ _Questions to Ask With A Stranger Inside A Bus_ ’?”

“Why? What’s wrong with the question?”

“It’s clearly out of place.”

“How come?”

“There’s no place for love, especially falling in love. The whole concept is purely absurd.”

“Do tell.”

“Keyword: falling.”

“And?”

“Keyword: keyword. It’s self-explanatory.”

“Ah. I get it.”

“Get what?”

“You’re one of them.”

“One of who?”

“Those _love-makes-life-look-hard_ or _love-is-plain-bullshit_ type of people.”

“I don’t belong to any clichés.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

A roll of the eyes. “Describe a time you fell in love.”

“Well . . . this one time, I got in a bus-”

“You’re shitting me. This isn’t your first time doing this?”

“It is.”

“We-”

“We just met, I know.” A smile. “We just met, but I could. You never know.”

“You-” A pause, a moment, and then a nod in understanding. “Okay. I get it. I see it more clearly now. So, what’s my number?”

“Huh?”

“I knew the jar was here for a reason. So what’s my number from all the guys you asked out using the jar?”

“What are you talking about? You’re quite assuming, did somebody ever tell you that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I don’t do this as a hobby, if that’s what you’re pertaining to.”

“Ask me why I don’t believe you.”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you have a jar with you. You expect me to believe you bring that everywhere you go?”

An exasperated explanation: “This jar originally contained my cashew nuts, which by the way, are all over my bus seat because it’s been a few hours and my ass is already suffocating and I am bored out of my mind and there’s this dude sitting two seats apart from mine and he looks forlorn so thinking that it’s a win-win situation, I would make conversations with him because the bus driver clearly does not want to make conversations with me because he thinks I’m weird because I ask him the difference between a squash and a pumpkin.”

A stare as a response.

“Look. Okay, I understand love is a touchy subject for you-”

“-You’re quite assuming. Did somebody ever tell you that?”

“I’m sorry, but besides that it’s too obvious, it’s really painfully obvious.” A pause - “Just came out of a bad relationship?”

“No.”

A sigh. “Well, that makes one of us, then.” 

A painful pause.

Finally, a clearing of throat, and, “So what you’re saying is, you threw your cashew nuts out which are all over your bus seat now and used the jar for entertainment because apparently it’s been a few hours and your ass is already suffocating and you were bored out of your mind and there’s this dude sitting two seats apart from you and he looked rather _sad_ – _fuck_ , forlorn? From where did you come from? Medieval time? - so thinking that it’s a win-win situation, you would make conversations with him because the bus driver clearly does not want to make conversations with you because he thinks you’re weird because you ask him the difference between squash and pumpkins, so you could tell him you could fall in love with him?”

A look of awe. “Go out with me.”

A quick response: “I don’t go out.”

A hurt look.

“ _But_ I do believe you invited yourself to go with me towards nowhere.”

A blinding smile.

A continuation: “And, you do not start conversations by asking the difference between a pumpkin and a squash.”

“But why not?”

“Because it’s out of normalcy.”

“I told you the floor is lava and still you entertained me.”

A mutter: “Touché.”

A pause, and then - “I’m gonna make you fall in love with me.”

A stunned, “Is that a challenge?”

A resolute, “It’s a promise.”

A pause, and then - “Well then, I’d like to see you try.”

A laugh, and an offered hand. “Even.”

For the first time, a smile. It’s so small – Even wouldn’t notice it if he isn’t staring at those lips – but it’s a smile nonetheless.

And it’s the most beautiful smile Even has ever seen.

“Isak.”


	2. 04:21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day. holy shit what is happening.

**04:21**

**Even**

Even blinks from unconsciousness and wonders why his bed is moving and why he’s in a sitting position. And then it dawns to him. 

_Oh, right._ He is currently on a bus. And _oh yes_ , he isn’t alone.

Glancing sideways, the first thing Even notices is a rebellious strand of golden lock falling across Isak’s forehead. Even smiles and stops to wonder, because it just hits him: it’s the first time he thinks of the word _beautiful_ and genuinely means it as he looks at his new friend.

 _Wait_ –

“Are we friends?” he asks.

“You drool,” is the answer he gets. Even frowns and unconsciously wipes the sides of his mouth with his t-shirt.

“And gross,” Isak adds, nose scrunching.

Even frowns once more. “Hey. Did you sleep?”

Isak sighs and shakes his head. “No.”

“When did I doze off?” he asks.

Taking his glasses off, Isak finally looks at him. Even watches him massage his forehead for a second before answering, “Somewhere between you telling me you once thought you were a cannibal and you proclaiming your love for lilacs.”

Even playfully glares. “I meant what time.”

“I don’t know. I don’t do time,” Isak says. To prove his point, he shows Even his empty wrists.

Even wants to ask why, but decides to keep his curiosity to himself. “You look tired. There’re bags under your eyes,” is what he says instead.

“Those are natural. You have, too.”

“But yours have black on them.”

“Thanks,” Isak deadpans.

“Hey. Can’t sleep?”

**Isak**

He answers it with a joke.

“I don’t sleep. I’m nocturnal."

Even snorts. “Of course you are,” he says. “But really, aren’t you tired?”

Isak almost rolls his eyes. _But of course he won’t let it go easily._ It’s Even. Three hours spent with the guy and Isak has him all figured out.

“Are you?” And what’s the best way to ignore a question? By asking another question, that’s how.

“Well, yeah. We’ve been sitting here for a few hours now.”

“How curious,” Isak muses as he brings his pen to his lips. “You’ve just been sitting yet you feel tired.”

Even's nose scrunches up as if he hasn’t really thought about it. "Huh."

“Now I’ll ask you: are you tired or just plain bored?”

“Hmm. Latter,” Even admits.

“That’s what I thought,” Isak mumbles, and that was that. A few minutes of silence passed. Isak can feel Even’s eyes on him, but he keeps his gaze on the almost visible view out the window.

“You don’t really talk, do you?” Even observes.

“Um,” Isak says, pretending to mull it over.

Even grins. “No, I mean, you don’t normally start the conversation.”

“Your point?”

“The point is, you’re not talkative.”

“Something wrong with that?”

Even raises both his hands up in a defensive way. “Nothing.” He exhales. “I’m just wondering why I’m still not bored.”

**Even**

Yes, he is definitely wondering.

Even is a self-proclaimed talkative person. He surrounds himself with talkative people; the quiet ones usually scare him, so it’s another wonder for him because Isak? Isak’s the epitome of _terse_ , yet somehow, Even craves for his attention.

“A compliment, I suppose,” Isak speaks, breaking Even's thoughts in the process.

“Trust me, it is.”

A few heartbeats pass . . .

“But,” Even says and both he and Isak release a sigh. “But it’s not always good that people have to start the conversation just to talk to you. I mean, that’s how you start to make friends. Through talking.”

“And yet here you are.”

Even’s eyes widen. “Wait. So does that mean that we’re friends?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “How did that mean that we’re friends?”

“Because I’m here, and we’re talking,” Even chirps. “So, are we? Are we, friends, Isak? Are we?”

Isak doesn’t answer. For a minute, both start a staring contest. 

Finally, Isak speaks: “The bus stopped.”

“You’re dodging the question!” Even shouts in frustration.

“Shush you,” Isak says, bringing the pen and journal back in his bag. “People might think you’re a lunatic.”

“What? There are no-”

Even stops talking, whipping his head around and realizes that indeed they are not alone inside the bus anymore. There are few people already standing and fixing their things, and a few heads are looking in their direction.

“The bus stopped, you idiot,” Isak says. Even looks back at Isak and frowns.

“How does that make me an idiot?” he demands.

“It means you have to move. This is the last stop.”

“How did you know?”

“The driver informed us in the middle of your drooling session.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. _Oh_. Move!” he says, pushing Even off his seat.

“Alright, alright,” he mutters and goes to grab his things from his original bus seat. When he glances back at Isak, he finds him already up in front and stepping out of the bus. Hastily, Even scrambles out, pushing some annoyed people in the process. As the cold morning air hits his face, he glances around, seeking for a certain blonde.

“Hey, wait up!” Even shouts, running hastily with his backpack and guitar jangling behind him. Isak halts and looks back, seeing Even struggling with his baggage.

“You forgot something?” Isak asks when Even finally catches up.

“No. But you did,” he says, panting.

Isak’s eyebrows meet in confusion. “What?”

“ _Me!_ You forgot me!”

Isak looks at him with both puzzlement and amusement.

Even is pouting. “Don’t you remember? I’m going nowhere with you.”

**Isak**

Isak’s eyes widen comically. 

“You were serious?”

No. Just – no. _Of course_ he isn’t.

**Even**

Sure he is.

“Of course!” he says.

“But . . . why?”

“I’m heading nowhere.”

“Stop saying that,” Isak says, frowning. “I’m not heading nowhere. I’m going somewhere. I just haven’t figured exactly where.”

“Great. Let’s go figure it out.”

Isak’s side mouth twitches and looks at Even with bafflement. “Don’t you have anywhere else to go? Other plans?”

Even shakes his head. “I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he admits. "I guess we’ll just have to figure it out on the road.”

“We?”

“Don’t you understand? I’m your baggage now,” he says.

“I’ll just lose you. I’m lost myself. I don’t know where this is.”

Even shrugs. “Awesome. Now, we’re both lost. I don’t know where we are too.”

“Seriously? You rode on a bus and you don’t know where it’s going?”

“Hey! Speak for yourself,” he says. “You did too.”

Isak purses his lips and looks at Even with too much uncertainty. Suddenly, he breaks the stare and reaches something out of his bag, head slightly shaking. “I won’t win this argument, will I?” he says.

Even looks downright smug. “Nope.”

Isak glances back at him. “I’m not talking to you.”

Even frowns. Isak then holds out a black pool ball, one ridiculously larger than the normal ones. Even’s brow shoots up and a teasing smile plays on his lips. “You find me weird for bringing a jar everywhere when you have a huge pool ball in your bag. Interesting,” he teases.

“This is a magic-8 ball,” Isak says, unamused. “It answers my questions. And I never said you’re weird.”

Even is already making a grabby hands at it even before Isak finishes his sentence. “Cool! May I keep it?” he says, eyes trained on the black ball.

“No,” Isak deadpans.

Even pouts and leans closer to look at the ball. “Fine. What does it say then?”

Isak shakes it. “ _Without a doubt_ ,” he reads.

“ _Yes!_ ” Even shouts and does a fist pump. “Let’s go!” he says, literally bouncing at his feet.

“Wait. Where?” Isak asks. “And don’t tell me nowhere. I’ll smack you.”

Even grins and starts running, yanking his wrist in the process. “Somewhere,” he says, looking back at Isak. Their sudden movement blows wind through his blonde locks, and Even is pretty sure right then and there that he is truly _rapt_. “Somewhere only we know.”

**x**

**Even**

They ended up in McDonald’s.

“So,” Even says, sliding on the booth across from Isak. “Who are you?”

Isak stops and stares at him for a second. “What?”

“You’re a man who writes stuff but doesn’t have a publisher. You’ve never been out of the country, and you order a black coffee for breakfast in a goddamn McDonald’s,” he says, placing the said cup of coffee in front of Isak, “But that’s not who you are. That’s what you do. Based on that alone, you’re either out-and-out dull or you have a miserable past that personifies a conundrum.”

Isak snorts. “I’d go with boring.”

“I don’t think so,” Even contradicts. “So tell me. What’s your story?”

Isak takes one sip of his coffee before putting the cup down and says, "No."

“No?” Even echoes.

“No,” Isak confirms. “Let’s not . . . let's not go there? I quite like the suspense.”

Even contemplates for a second before shrugging. “Hmm, yeah, okay,” he says, takes the biggest bite of his burger, and assumes that that was the end of the conversation, but then -

“Sometimes, it’s nice not knowing everything.”

It was said so hush Even thinks he imagined it. He watches Isak look down on his paper cup with a serene yet unnerved look on his face. Even decides not to question it further.

“That makes perfect sense,” Even says instead. He shifts from his seat and sighs. “But that won’t stop me from asking questions.” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

**Isak**

This time, Isak rolls his eyes.

_Of course._

“So what’s your itinerary?” Even asks.

“Not sure if I should tell you,” he says.

Even scowls and says, “Why not?”

Isak sets his elbows on the table and leans over his arms, deadpans, “What if you’re a secretly serial killer, trying to lure me somewhere far away so no one will ever find my dismembered body?”

“Hey!” Even protests, but there’s a smile playing on his lips. “I could say the same about you. You’re a stranger to me just as much as I’m a stranger to you.”

Isak waves his hand dismissively. “Please,” he drawls. “Do I look like a serial killer?”

“Do _I_ look like a serial killer?” Even echoes. Before he could retort back, he speaks again. “You know what? Don’t even answer that. But I could promise you your limbs will remain perfectly intact.”

“That makes me feel so much better, thanks,” Isak deadpans.

“Okay, so since we established that we’re not serial killers or a mobster that belongs to a very large group of mafias, can we start over again? What’s your itinerary?”

“I never said I’m not a mobster,” Isak says with an eyebrow raised.

“Will you please just answer the question?” Even says.

Isak rolls his eyes again but answers nevertheless. “I don’t have one.”

“So what, you just badgered on a bus with nowhere to go, like literally?”

“Pretty much.”

“Really? No plans at all? No time to catch?”

“None. I have no reason to get back right away.”

Even looks at him with another version of interest. “Oh, really? So, no special someone waiting for you at home?”

Isak raises an eyebrow. “You know, you should have asked that before you hit on me.”

Even feigns a gasp of surprise. “Is that what I was doing? I was completely unaware.” He pauses. “And you didn’t answer my question, so please do before I assume.”

“You have too many.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” he asks, bulls eyed.

**Even**

He is worried he hit a nerve. Isak is looking at him with squinting eyes, and Even wishes he could read his mind.

Finally, Isak drops the scrutinizing gaze. “You’re something,” he says, apropos of nothing. 

Even grins cockily. “Come on. You could use a better adjective than that,” he says.

Isak purses his lips as he continues to stare at him. “Bouncy.”

“Bouncy?” Even repeats.

“Peculiar.”

“Really? Wow. I’ve never been called peculiar before.”

“There’s always a first time.”

Even grins. “Come on. Describe me more.” 

“I don’t know you. That would make me pretty presumptuous.”

“No, not at all. Please. I love hearing first impressions.”

Isak doesn’t speak for a long time as he shamelessly stares at Even’s face. “Describe me,” are his next words.

Even leans his elbows on the table with his fingers laced together, his chin propped on them. “Exquisite. Intense. Fascinating.”

Like the universe, is what he’d like to say.

**Isak**

Like the whole world, Isak thinks. 

Isak rolls his eyes. He hates the whole damned world.

“Nosy,” he says and nods in confirmation. “Yep. Definitely nosy.”

Even frowns. “That’s it? That’s what I get?”

“Like I told you, I don’t know you.”

“But you’re good at observing.”

“Garrulous,” he says out loud.

Even’s nose scrunches and his eyebrows meet in confusion. “What?”

“You’re garrulous.”

Even’s eyes widen. “Oh, God. A walking dictionary. Can’t you just say gorgeous? Or appealing? Charming, even?”

Isak’s mouth jerks in a small smile. “Fishing for compliments is never appealing.”

Even playfully acts shy. “Aw, shit, you got me. I guess I’m getting too far.”

Isak’s brow shoots up in amusement. “You guess?”

Even pouts. “I just want to impress.”

“You talk to impress?”

Even cringes. “I’m losing points, am I?”

Isak nods solemnly.

“I should just stop talking now, shouldn’t I?”

Isak shakes his head in agreement.

Even pouts and slumps on his seat. “So the glasses,” he starts.

Isak sighs in exasperation at how chatty Even is, but on the other hand amazed about how he could stir conversations after conversations flawlessly.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t know you’re into hipster shit.”

Isak scowls. “Fuck off. They’re prescription.”

Even smiles a toothless smile, and that ends another short-lived conversation.

“May I borrow your magic 8-ball?” Even speaks after a couple seconds of silence.

Without answering, Isak fishes the ball out of his bag and rolls it across the table towards Even.

“Alright,” Even says and shakes the ball in his hands. “Let’s see . . . Am I pretty?”

Isak scoffs, but Even ignores him. “ _Outlook good_ ,” he reads and sticks his tongue out at Isak.

“What are you, five?”

“Am I five?” Even asks and Isak groans. 

“Oh, God.”

“ _Signs point to yes_ ,” he reads and his eyebrows furrow as Isak’s laughter permeates the air.

“You’re lying, right?” Even asks.

“That’s cheating! You can’t make it take back what it said.”

“There are no rules,” Even says and looks at the ball. “ _It is certain_. Ha! See, I’m not five.” Even pauses and looks out the window with full concentration in his eyes.

“Is it going to be a good day today?” he says, shaking the ball. “ _As I see it yes_.” Even grins, and Isak’s lips twitch.

“Give it to me. I have a question,” Isak says, making grabby hands to the ball.

“No, wait. I have my last question,” Even says and starts shaking the ball again. “Should Isak and I be best friends forever?”

“Please,” Isak sighs and rolls his eyes.

“ _Abso-fucking-lutely_. Whoa. Too much enthusiasm there, buddy,” he says to the ball with a chuckle.

“You’re a dork,” he says, shaking his head. “What did it really say?”

“ _Better not tell you now,”_ Even reads and stares at the ball.

Isak smirks. “Hand it over,” he demands. Even rolls it towards him.

“But seriously, are we at least friends?” Even asks, looking intently at Isak.

“No,” Isak says. 

“But I want us to be friends,” Even whines.

Isak takes a long sip on his coffee before answering, “Not everything you want, you get.”

**Even**

_But the thing is, everything I want, I get,_ Even thinks, but didn't dare voice it out loud. Instead, he says, “We’ll see."

Isak passes him a half-amused, half-weirded look, but he doesn’t say anything else, and Even doesn't expect him to.

He watches as Isak brings the cup back to his mouth, and as Even sits back against the chair and relaxes, he notices how the first light of sunrise hits Isak's face, and witnessed how emerald turns into peridot.

This time, Even doesn't stop to wonder about the fact that it's the second time Even thinks of the word _beautiful_ and genuinely meant it.

It's Isak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the flow of this fic is a bit new for me; i feel like i'm literally in an uncharted territory lol i'm actually scared but at the same time i wanna know what you guys think, soooo what do you guys think?


	3. 08:21

**08:21**

**Isak**

“Hey, Even, do you trust me?”

“Uh, sure?”

“Okay. Then trust me when I say that I will shove that thing up to that special place where the sun doesn’t shine if you don’t stop doing that,” Isak seethes, glaring at the pocket radio on Even’s hand.

Even guffaws. “But I’m making a poem! Look, here. Let’s see . . .” He proceeds to press the already molested button of the tiny gadget. “Oohhh, I like this! _Some things we don’t talk about,_ ” he sings. He then presses for the nth time, and Isak rolls his eyes for the nth time.

It’s a quiet morning in this town, which Isak appreciates very much. Of course, his ‘baggage’ has other plans. And the thing is, Even has been at it for about ten minutes now, and the urge to strangle him is getting stronger and stronger every time he changes the station.

“ _Sandra, I’m ready to go._ ”

“ _It’s empty in the valley of your heart_.”

“ _Now he’s back in the atmosphere._ ”

“ _Do you know where your heart is?_ ”

Before Even can finish the last sentence, Isak was finally able to snatch the device from his hands.

“ _Hey!_ ” 

“You weren’t even making any sense,” Isak snaps. He should have never let Even touch the thing in the first place.

“Rude,” Even grumbles, and a few seconds later whines, “I’m bored now, Isak,” as Isak put the radio back inside his backpack.

Isak doesn’t engage and proceeds to walk silently. They’ve now reached a clearing in the dense growth of the forest, and the only thing he can hear is the distant sound of a creek, faint chirps of birds, and the crunch of the forest’s debris under his feet. 

Perfect, until -

Until Even starts yawning loudly, consecutively, _annoyingly_. When Isak finally gives him attention, he finds him yawning again while deliberately holding eye contact.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“Yawning is contagious,” Even says matter-of-factly, “Just wanna know if I can provoke the sleep out of you.”

Isak stops walking and stares. “You are so weird,” he declares.

“I’m so bored, is what I am,” Even complains and stomps his foot petulantly. “We’ve been walking for hours, and you don’t talk much, and you just took my only source of entertainment, which is a bit rude by the way. Hey, let’s play twenty questions.”

Even’s mind must be running miles per second, because Isak honestly cannot keep up with him.

“Here,” Isak says and tosses him the magic-8 ball. Anything just to keep the peace.

Even made a tiny _‘yay’_ sound before obnoxiously shaking the ball. “Alright, let’s see,” he hums, “Should Isak play twenty questions with me?”

“That’s not-”

“ _No_ ,” Even reads, nose scrunched. Isak laughs.

“It listens to me,” he says smugly.

“Fine,” Even grumbles and starts shaking it again. “Is Isak insomniac?”

A pause.

“ _Definitely_ ,” Even reads, “Ha, I knew it.”

“Why is this even such a big deal to you? Some people just don’t like to sleep, you know?”

“But not sleeping is not healthy.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, yeah?” He says it as if it is painfully obvious.

Silence, then - “Well, I don’t want to miss seeing the world,” Isak mumbles, deliberately keeping his eyes on the ground.

“A few hours of unconsciousness won’t make any difference,” Even snorts.

“Wrong,” he says, a faraway look on his face. “It will never be the same.”

**Even**

Even gives him a weird look. “If you wake up from slumber, the world’s still the same. Birds will still be chirping. People will still be assholes.”

Isak looks at him then. For a brief moment, time feels suspended as they only hold each other’s deep gaze. Finally, Isak breaks it with, “And you’re still gonna be here,” and just like that, everything is back to normal.

“Please,” Even scoffs playfully, bumping Isak’s shoulder with his. “You love me as a company.”

Isak scoffs harder as he slightly tumbles. “I won’t be getting rid of you anytime soon, will I?”

Even refuses to lose Isak’s glare so he holds it even as he starts walking backwards. He receives the cold retort with a warm grin and arms spread wide. “The magic ball had spoken. And speaking of!” _Shake shake shake_. “Should Isak and I play twenty questions?”

Gurgle gurgle gurgle, then - “ _Absolutely_. Finally!”

**Isak**

Isak sighs in defeat as he watches the tall man bounce on his heels in excitement.

 _Puppy_ , he thinks. _Cute._

_Stop._

“Fine, let’s play a game,” Isak says.

**Even**

Even stops, because he was expecting more fight from the guy. 

The shock in his face is clearly visible, he’s sure of it. Isak takes it in stride; he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he continues with, “Not twenty questions, that’s too easy, even for you. We’re just going to have a simple conversation. I’ll ask, you answer and vice versa. But you must answer in question form, too. Winner chooses the consequence. I’ll start: why were you on that bus?” Isak says in one breath.

Even purses his lips and ponders for a bit. “Is it crazy if I say I was having an existential crisis?”

Isak doesn’t speak immediately, as if mulling over what Even just said. “So you ran?” he then speaks.

Even smiles sheepishly. “It’s kinda irresponsible, isn’t it?”

Isak smiles small. “Is it crazy if I say it isn’t?”

Even shakes his head. “Why?”

A couple of seconds of silence, and then he says, “Am I crazy if I say we have the same reason?”

With that, Even’s eyes widen. A piece of the riddle that is Isak’s life has finally been revealed. 

“Does anyone know?” he asks.

“It’s called running away for a reason, isn’t it?” Isak pauses. “Does anyone care that _you_ ran away?”

 _What an absurd question_ , Even thinks. What an absurd usage of the word - _care_. Of course someone cares, he wants to say. Maybe not that much, but it will never be none. 

“What do you think?”

Isak eyes him skeptically. “You’re . . . important, aren’t you?”

There it is again - _important_. Even knows from the start that the man beside him has a way with words, so Isak deliberately using these peculiar terms make Even wonder. These aren’t mere coincidences, Even contemplates. He really means to use these words.

Unconsciously, Even starts playing with the hem of his shirt. _Okay, so maybe I’m just over analyzing the questions being thrown,_ he thinks. _Maybe it’s not that deep. Maybe I shouldn’t dwell on it too much._

_Maybe I should just stop thinking at all._

When Even finally speaks and says, “Just pretty, don’t you think?” and shifts back to his own bubbly self, releasing a lopsided smile and a shrug, he wishes Isak didn’t notice the sudden lapse of judgment on his part.

**Isak**

Of course, Isak sees right through him. 

But unlike the nosy man beside him, he chooses to ignore it. Instead, he scoffs, “Full of ourselves now, aren’t we?”

Even grins. “Why do you always question the given?”

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“No.”

Before realization dawns to Isak, his whole body is already being yanked.

**Even**

_Yes!_

“Ha, I won! Let’s dance!” Even says happily. Pulling Isak close, Even places his right hand on his waist and intertwines Isak’s left with his. 

And so there they are, in the middle of an empty clearing on what is beginning to look like a warm, sunny day, waltzing without any music, no audience, just him, Isak and nature.

Just them.

 _Perfect_ , Even thinks.

**Isak**

Hands wrapped around his waist and fingers intertwined with his, Isak’s heart starts beating fast.

 _Dangerous_ , Isak’s mind screams.

**Even**

“So, existential crisis, huh?” Even speaks, feeling Isak tensed up against his body.

“Um. Yeah.”

“You just ran?”

“Just like you,” Isak mumbles.

“Did you tell anyone?”

Isak only shrugs.

“Aren’t you concise,” Even deadpans and rolls his eyes. “Give me something more.”

“That’s not a part of the consequence. There _is_ no consequence.”

“It’s up to whoever wins. I won.”

“Yeah, and we’re dancing right now.”

“This is not my consequence, and you are dodging the question.”

“There is no question.”

“Have you told anyone that you’re here?”

“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is,” Isak says and releases a dry chuckle.

“Well, does anybody know that you left?” Even presses.

Isak sighs deep. “They do now.”

“Meaning?”

“Figure it out.”

“Stop being so difficult, Isak,” Even demands softly.

Isak looks at him. “Where will be the fun in that? Someone has to be difficult in this relationship, Even.”

“Oh, so we have a relationship,” Even teases.

Isak rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Even huffs. “Alright. Let me get this straight, then, correct me if I get something wrong: you’re currently having an existential crisis, so you ran away with no plans ahead and without telling anybody.”

Isak shrugs. “Pretty much.”

“So you just left? Just like that? But what about your house? What about your clothes? Pets? Plants?” Even asks, feeling that he’s missing something huge in the conundrum that is Isak.

Isak shakes his head, a small smile in his lips. “Even, what fun is reinvention if you have to haul your old life around like a ball and chain?”

_Reinvention?_

“Reinvention?”

**Isak**

He slipped.

 _Too much. That’s already too much information._

He can’t afford to open up. He can’t risk telling him everything. Isak can’t trust anybody too much. 

So - “Hey, do you hear that?”

**Even**

“Huh?”

Suddenly, Isak breaks away from his hold and runs. Suddenly, Even feels slightly colder.

“Hey! Wait! Where are you going?” he shouts.

“You stink, Even!” Isak shouts, running across the clearing and straight through the thick trees.

“So do you!” Even shoots back and groans. “Hey! Wait!” 

Even slows his run to a jog as he enters the heavily wooded area. Immediately, the damp air and shrubby aroma enveloped him. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Even says and pushes away the frond of a plant he doesn’t know the name of away from his face. Isak ignores him, like always. 

He watches Isak’s back for a few minutes as they amble along a small creek. Pressing on, he feels the heels of his shoes dig into the soft mulch. Isak is carefully navigating through a narrow path now, and upon passing the dense growth of trees, the path suddenly grows dark.

“Um. Isak, can I ask a question?” he asks timidly.

“You can ask but you may not,” he hears Isak mumble. He obviously has no clear cut journey, but the way he trudges along the ferns and the trees with definitive steps makes Even think twice.

An unusual humming sound vibrates in the air, Even is finally noticing. It sounds like a swarm of bees, but then the buzzing transferred to the rock beneath his feet. Isak suddenly stops walking, and the source of the sound reveals itself.

In front of them is a drop. 

Leaning over, Even gasps in awe at the vividness of the aquarium-blue bliss-pool at the bottom of a steady rushing waterfall. It is spurting over the basalt rock, spilling over the ledges, and there are fronds of forest-green plants waving gently by the bank. 

“Are you seeing this? Is this for real?” he breathes.

“I want to fly,” is Isak’s response, and what a peculiar thing to say apropos of nothing, Even thinks, but he couldn’t ponder about it too much because he’s still feeling a little overwhelmed at the paradise that just seemingly presented itself out of nowhere.

“Sure you do,” he mutters as he carefully leans over more to look at the foam lathering at the base.

“No, really, I want to,” Isak says, firmer this time.

“Mm-hm.”

“I want to fly right now.”

There is an eerie level of certainty in Isak’s voice that Even just notices, and before he can comment on that, Isak is already running forward and jumping into the wide pool which is a good 15 feet drop at the very least.

“What the fuck!” Even squawks as he sees Isak hit the water, sending a wave flying up onto the Amazon ferns on the edge of the pool. “Holy fucking shit! Isak!” he screams. The thumping of his heartbeat grows louder for every second that he couldn’t see a head breaking the surface.

For a few seconds, there is only silence.

“He’s dead, oh my God he’s dead-”

“I flew!”

“ _Fy faen!_ ” Even exclaims under his breath as laughter erupts across the area. 

“Even, come down here! The water’s so cold!”

“You’re fucking crazy! Warn a guy next time, Jesus Christ!”

“I flew, Even! I told you I wanted to fly!”

“Yeah, you did! That doesn’t make you any less crazy though!”

“The only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy, Even Bech Næsheim,” Isak says, a serene look on his face. Even watches him happily wade through the clear blue pool, fully-clothed and all. 

“What are you waiting for then?” Isak shouts. Even takes that as his cue to finally take the leap.

It probably took not even a second for him to reach the water, but in that short span of time, he never felt freer.

He comes up to the surface gasping, and the first thing he notices is the laugh – that one laugh that made the hair on his arms stand. Just a few feet from him swims Isak, with his lips curved up into a delicate half-moon and eyes barely visible as he doubles over laughing. 

An inexplicable warmth blossomed forth deep inside Even. He welcomes it with certainty.

“Your face!” Isak wheezes, “You should’ve seen your face!”

“Shut up!” Even laughs, pushing water straight on Isak’s open mouth. 

For a while, they stay afloat silently. The only prominent sounds Even hear are the rigorous fall of the water and his deep breathing. The silence that enveloped them is quite refreshing.

Suddenly, Isak, without a word, leaves the pool and climbs back up to the cliff. Even joins a few minutes later. With legs dangling over the edge of the cliff, Even sees Isak craning over to look at the blue pool below. Even lays down beside him, clothes sticking to his body which is starting to get itchy. Even tries to ignore the irritating feeling and stares up at the clear sky above them.

“Do you really do impulsive things like that?” he asks after a moment.

“Pretty much.” 

“Well you should give me a heads up somehow. I thought you died.”

Isak chuckles. “Duly noted.”

For a while, everything is silent.

“So,” Even says. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He knows it was an out-of-the-blue question, but it’s Isak, so he knows out-of-the-blue is something normal - something like a thing for them. He unconsciously smiles at the thought that they have a thing going on, like an inside joke between the two of them.

Isak throws his head back so now he is sprawled out in the open space beside Even, their arms barely touching.

For a second, everything falls silent once again. Even doesn’t expect him to answer, really. He’s oblivious but not that dense. He knows Isak is still unsettled with him, but he is not complaining. They basically are strangers, after all.

The silence is comfortable, Even realizes. Everything’s so stagnant, and nothing could seem to ruin it.

But then, out of nowhere – 

“Nightmares.”

**Isak**

He doesn’t know why he said it out loud. He doesn’t know why he suddenly wants to open up after months of bottling it all up. To a stranger, even.

But wait - Stranger? Is Even a stranger? Isak’s known him less than twenty-four hours. As far as he knows, Even basically _is_ a stranger.

But why does it feel like he’s known him all his life?

Isak sighs. He doesn’t like this feeling. 

He doesn’t like this feeling at all.

**Even**

He stops humming and turns his head sideways. He watches Isak who has his gaze up to the sky, only blinking a few times.

“Nightmares,” Even echoes.

Something suddenly clicks, and he shudders, amazed how a single word seems to clear a lot of things for him.

“What are they like?” he asks tentatively.

Isak is silent for a minute before answering. “Darkness. Plain black. I’m falling endlessly.” He pauses and swallows. “It’s scary.”

Even stops for a moment. “Have you, um . . . does anyone know?” 

It seems redundant, but it’s the first thought that registers on his mind.

“No,” Isak answers.

“Why?”

Isak chuckles, but it is not from happiness. “No one asked.” 

_Bitterness_.

“I didn’t,” he says.

Isak finally looks at Even. His shoulders brush with his, and he could literally feel his warm breath against his cold, damp skin. “I know. But I want you to know,” he says, voice soft.

Even nods. “Thank you. For telling me.” 

Isak doesn’t speak. He just purses his lips and nods.

Even stares at him and wonders how one could be so goddamn beautiful.

**Isak**

_And there are the hearty eyes again._

_Shit._

“Shit,” Isak says and bolts upright.

Even sits up too. “What’s wrong?”

“Let’s get out of here,” he decides.

“Why?” Even asks.

“It’s crowded,” he answers, taking a glance at Even before looking away again.

 _Maybe he’s already questioning my sanity_ , Isak thinks.

**Even**

Even’s very tempted to question Isak’s sanity.

But it’s Isak, Even thinks. Enigmatic, slightly weird, definitely beautiful Isak. It’s kind of self-explanatory.

So he says, “You know what, it does feel crowded.” 

Instinctively, he offers his hand, but Isak dismisses it and stands on his own.

Going over the cliff and taking a mental picture of the blue pool for the last time, Even attempts to ignore the odd feeling of rejection.

He fails.

**Isak**

Isak doesn’t want to touch Even.

He doesn’t believe in sparks. It’s stupid and cheesy and it makes him want to vomit.

He doesn’t want to touch him. Because his theory about sparks for twenty-one years might be proven wrong if he does. Isak hates being proven wrong.

So he doesn’t.

Instead, he reaches out for his old polaroid camera and takes a picture of an unaware Even who is currently standing over the cliff. Even looks back at him just as Isak pushes the camera back to his bag alongside the stolen photograph.

**Even**

“Isak?” Even calls out.

“Yes?”

Mustering the last bit of bravery in him, he says, “Dream of me.”

“Huh?”

“Dream of me,” he repeats, with more conviction this time.

For a second, Isak only looks at him. “Why?” he then asks.

A beat and then - “So that you won’t fall."

**Isak**

Isak could hear his heart thumping. It’s loud. 

It’s so loud. 

It’s too loud, really, that he almost didn’t catch what Even said next. 

And Isak wishes that he didn’t.

“I’ll catch you, Isak. Dream of me,” Even says, and he says it so softly, and he’s smiling again, and it’s beautiful, Isak thinks, and suddenly Isak can feel himself falling, and he should be scared, is the thing, but for the first time in his pitiful life, he finds that he isn’t.

He’s terrified.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
